


Straight into Your Arms

by burninghoneyatdusk



Series: The Graduation Pact [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Surfers, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hawaii, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, bi!Bellamy rise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27408373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninghoneyatdusk/pseuds/burninghoneyatdusk
Summary: Nearly six years after they graduated, Bellamy and Clarke are still together and more in love than ever. Of course, there’s been bumps along the way, the biggest being that they were forced to attend grad school across the country from one another and continue long distance. With less than a semester left, they both fly home to Hawaii to attend Monty's & Harper’s wedding. Unbeknownst to each other, Bellamy has a big question to ask and Clarke has some big news to share.Or, the Graduation Pact sequel that someone did ask for.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: The Graduation Pact [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874443
Comments: 19
Kudos: 237
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	Straight into Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BellamyWanheda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellamyWanheda/gifts).



> This is a sequel to my fic The Graduation Pact. While you probably don't have to read it to enjoy this fic...why not?
> 
> This fic was prompted for the t100 Fic for BLM Initiative, where writers AND content creators are accepting prompts in exchange for donations to organizations that support the BLM cause. Visit our [carrd](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/) for more info. 
> 
> Title is from the Vance Joy song 'Straight into Your Arms.' This fic was unofficially sponsored by Vance Joy because pretty much every song of his now reminds me of GP!bellarke.

_ You keep me on track _

_ I can't sleep 'til you come back home to me _

_ Into my arms, baby _

_ So let's make the best of what we have _

_ Time is precious; it won't last _

_ I see you and I get back _

_ Ooh, I've been gone since yesterday _

_ And I fell straight, straight into your arms _

_ Ooh, but it only takes one day _

_ And I run straight, straight into your arms _

\--∞--

Bellamy slides his kindle back into his messenger back, resigned to the fact that he’s not going to be able to focus on reading right now. Instead, he leans back in the airport chair and puts his headphones in, watching the crowds of people moving around the terminal at the San Francisco International Airport. He doesn’t last more than a few minutes before he checks his pocket, feeling around for the black, velvet ring box in his unzipped pocket. He’s checked his pocket obsessively since leaving his apartment this afternoon. It feels wrong for the ring to not be in his top dresser drawer, where it’s been safely stored for the last two months. Now it’s out in the wild, vulnerable to the world, and it has him on edge.

Thankfully, Bellamy doesn’t need to wait too long. In the next twenty minutes, they begin boarding his flight to Kona, Hawaii. He hasn’t been home since Christmas, which is typical of the last six years of his life, since he left home for college. Generally, he only makes it home during the summers and for his holiday break, but Monty’s and Harper’s wedding means a trip home in mid-April. Of course, the last two years have been even harder, because Clarke is across the country instead of a six hour drive away. They’re in the home stretch, finishing the last month and a half of their respective graduate programs, and all he wants to do is officially start his life with her.

There’s a strange - or even cruel - irony in that Clarke and him began dating right before they were separated for the first time in their lives. During their undergraduate years, they made it work for a long time, until things fell apart over their junior year holiday break. The stress of long-distance, the knowledge that they’d only been with each other, the fear that they were holding the other one back...all those anxieties brewed into something horrible and ended with a painful break up before they started their spring semesters.

Bellamy isn’t sure he’s ever had such a miserable period in his life, but after so many years, he knows it was for the best. They both hooked up with other people during that semester, which was a hard pill to swallow for a long time. In fact, it was during that period of his life that Bellamy realized he was bi. Even with their break up, it was Clarke who Bellamy first confided in about it, just like it was Bellamy that Clarke immediately called when she found out her dad needed minor surgery to remove a tumor. At the end of the day, they were still family. He can’t imagine anything ever changing that. 

That miserable period came to an end when they both returned home for the summer. They only lasted a few weeks before Clarke’s jealousy over Bellamy flirting with Monty’s roommate, who was visiting from Boston, resulted in a shouting match and rougher sex than they’d ever had. Admittedly, Bellamy might have been trying to get Clarke’s attention with the flirting. They talked the next day and decided they didn’t need to be with anyone else to know that they were it for each other. They spent the summer reconnecting, which included a lot of surfing and a lot of possessive fucking in which they assured each other that no one fucked them like the other did. By the time they returned to school, they were solid again, and their relationship matured into something different. Something more certain. 

They made a plan, and committed to living in the same city after graduation. Then, like all their previous best-laid plans, that plan fell apart too. Clarke got into a prestigious art program in New York and Bellamy got into his top choice for a masters program at Berkeley. It became apparent that one of them would have to settle, to compromise, and neither would let the other one do that - and so, it was two more years of long distance. Two more years of living for holiday and summer breaks, of cross-country flights and visits. Finally, it was nearly over. Finally, they have a chance to be  _ truly  _ together again. When Bellamy had to say goodbye to Clarke after their most recent visit for Valentine’s Day, he decided that he would rather bag groceries in the same city as Clarke than live apart from her again - and so, that’s what he’s committing to. He’s committing to her, over every city, over every job, over every opportunity. He’s committing to her by giving her the diamond in his pocket.

His stomach is full of butterflies as he takes his seat on the plane. The good kind of butterflies are there - the familiar, but wonderful anticipation he always feels flood him when he knows he’s going to see Clarke. This time though, there are more nervous butterflies too - certainly not bad ones, but ones tainted by anxiety. Still, he has a plan - the  _ perfect _ plan to propose to Clarke. He’s planned everything, because perfect is what Clarke deserves - nothing less. 

_ Perfect _ , he assures himself.  _ Everything will be perfect. _

\--∞--

Clarke is a certified mess. She can hardly blame the woman who gives her a dirty look from the sink when Clarke slinks out of the airport bathroom stall. The poor woman had to listen to Clarke throw up her meager breakfast of tea and crackers that she’d foolishly tried to keep down. She should have known better. Thankfully, the woman immediately leaves and Clarke is left alone in the bathroom to take in her ragged image in the mirror. There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is pulled back in a messy braid that’s already falling out. 

_ Great,  _ she thinks.  _ I’m seeing my boyfriend for the first time in two months, and this is what he gets.  _

As she swishes mouth wash, Clarke reminds herself that her boyfriend happens to be her  _ best friend _ \- the guy who grew up beside her since they were both in diapers. He’s certainly seen her in worse shape than this. Still, that doesn’t mean she wants him to see  _ this _ when she gets off the plane. The word  _ diapers _ lingering in her mind, she reminds herself that she has bigger things to worry about than her appearance...like telling her boyfriend that she’s pregnant.

Clarke wants to claim that she has no idea what happened, but that would be a lie. What happened is that when she visited Bellamy for Valentine’s Day two months ago, she was jet lagged and generally too excited about seeing him to remember to take her pill that night. The minute she arrived in San Francisco, Bellamy had the perfect night planned for them. They both thought Valentine’s Day was a cheesy holiday, but when you’re long distance, it’s also an excuse to see each other. Not to mention that Clarke liked the romantic evening he planned a little more than she wanted to admit. Instead of whisking her away to some crowded, expensive restaurant that they both would have hated, he brought take-out italian and a bottle of wine to the roof of his apartment building, where they could see the entire skyline as the sun set. 

Sometimes it scares Clarke, how Bellamy can still look at her like she holds the sun in the sky after all these years. But she knows she feels the same about him, so she tries to just be thankful for it. So, sure - she knows exactly what happened. What happened was she was exhausted, and then got caught up in sunsets, and wine, and freckles. Then it was dark, and he was dragging her back down to the apartment where he fucked her until she couldn’t think straight, and then she was falling asleep in his arms. Then it was morning, and there was shower sex, and sight seeing, and somewhere along the way...well, the pill was forgotten.

Clarke shakes her head at herself in the mirror for good measure. 

_ Idiot _ , she thinks, before throwing her carry-on bag over her shoulder and heading to her gate. 

Now, instead of enjoying Monty’s and Harper’s wedding, and more generally time with each other and their families, she has to drop  _ this  _ bomb on the poor guy. She hates how nervous she is about it. On the one hand, she knows with absolute certainty that Bellamy would never leave her side. She knows that somehow, they’ll work it out. She knows he’ll be a great father. But then...well, doubts shadow those certainties. Of course, they’ve talked about having kids, but that was some theoretical future event - like when they’re married, and have established their careers, and have had a chance to see the world together. The last thing she wants is Bellamy feeling obligated or trapped instead of excited, like she, in spite of everything, truly is. That’s the thing - under the nerves, there’s genuine excitement. Because how could she not be excited to be having Bellamy’s baby?

Realizing that she was in love with Bellamy all those years ago had been surprising at the time, but in later years, she realized that if they were anything at all, they were inevitable. He’s her best friend, her partner, her soulmate. In fact, apparently the only people who didn’t know that they were meant to be together was  _ them _ . Their families found out in a less than ideal way. After the night of graduation, they had kept their new relationship to themselves, wanting to have a chance to catch their breaths without any pressure or opinions from anyone else. Of course, that didn’t last long. 

_ It was two weeks after the night of graduation, and Clarke’s parents told them that they were going out to dinner with Thelonius and his new girl friend again. They hadn’t thought much of Bellamy and Clarke watching television in the living room before they left.  _

_ It was about two hours after they left that their innocent cuddling on the couch somehow morphed into a heavy makeout session with Clarke in Bellamy’s lap, straddling him. Clarke’s fingers were buried in his thick curls and his tongue was in her mouth, and it was too late by the time the front door opened.  _

_ Someone cleared their throat from behind them, and Clarke nearly fell off of Bellamy as she tried to untangle herself from him. It didn’t really help him, given that he immediately had to reach for a pillow to hold on his lap. _

_ “You’re home early,” Clarke choked. _

_ Clarke waited for one of her parents to say something. Her father turned to her mother instead.  _

_ “You owe me $100.” _

_ “No,” her mother argued emphatically. “You said before graduation. We actually both owe Aurora $100.” _

_ Clarke’s mouth hung open and she looked over at Bellamy, hoping to get his attention, but he was staring blankly at them, as if in shock. _

_ “You guys were betting on us?” she finally asked, in disbelief. _

_ “Yeah, and I lost money for having higher expectations for you two,” her mother mock scolded, before walking into the kitchen to put away leftovers. _

_ “Well,” Bellamy started, speaking for the first time. “Technically, Jake - um, Sir,” he hurriedly corrected himself. “You uh - you won.” _

_ Her father’s smile was wide and amused as he took in Bellamy’s nervous stammering.  _

_ “Jake is still fine, son,” he laughed, clapping a hand over his shoulder before following her mother into the kitchen. “But bedroom privileges are uh - modified,” he called over his shoulder. _

Their friends’ reactions were no different. They ranged from Monty’s and Harper’s warm congratulations, the two of them exclaiming how happy they were that they “finally figured things out” to Murphy’s more blunt “about fucking time.” The underlying theme was that no one was surprised. Even with their brief break up, that’s how it’s always been - Bellamy and Clarke belong together. They simply  _ fit _ and Clarke has to try her hardest to remember that when she takes a hammer to yet another set of their best-laid plans. 

\--∞--

It’s dusk by the time Bellamy’s flight lands in Kona. The sun hasn’t quite sunk to the horizon, but it’s close, and the sky is a beautiful blend of vibrant pink and orange. He’s still antsy as they de-board the plane, even though he won’t be picking up Clarke from the airport until tomorrow afternoon. Once again, as he walks through the terminal, he checks his pocket for the small velvet box. Relief floods him when his fingers brush against the familiar material.

Bellamy has only barely made it past security when he hears a familiar voice calling his name. He spins around just in time to catch his sister barreling towards him, his bag dropping to the ground when she flings herself into his arms. He laughs as he wraps his arms around around her and she hugs him back tightly.

“Hey, big brother,” Octavia smiles once she finally pulls back. Bellamy ruffles her hair, to her annoyance. 

“Knock it off,” she scowls, still unable to mask her smile.

His nineteen year old sister decided not to go to college, and was bartending and teaching surfing lessons since graduating the previous year. It wasn’t necessarily a decision he approved of, especially not at first, but he had long ago made peace with the fact that Octavia would follow her own path, no matter what anyone thought about it.

“Well, let me see it,” she urges. 

Bellamy smiles slyly. “Let me grab my bag first, I’ll show you in the car.”

“Oh c’mon,” Octavia complains, but Bellamy is already walking towards the baggage claim. She hurries to catch up with him.

To her credit, Octavia waits until his bags are thrown in the back of her jeep and they’re buckled in the car before she asks again. For his little sister, that’s an improvement when it comes to her patience. 

“Okay,  _ now _ ?”

Bellamy grins at her, feeling butterflies in his stomach just from pulling the box from his pocket.

“Oh, Bell,” Octavia gasps when he opens the box. 

She takes it from him, staring intently the ring. It’s a modest diamond, but is positioned between two even smaller sapphires. They reminded him of the ocean where Clarke and him spent so much of their lives, and so he hopes it reminds Clarke of it too.

“Do you think she has any clue?” Octavia asks, handing him the ring back. Bellamy slips it back into his pocket as she starts the car.

“I don’t think so...I mean, we’ve talked about the future. I don’t think she’d say  _ no _ or anything...God, at least I hope she-”

“She won’t,” Octavia hurriedly assures him.

“But no, we haven’t talked about any firm plans yet. I think the next step we’ve both been focused on is just getting to the same city and going from there.”

When Bellamy glances at his sister, she’s wearing a huge smile, even though her eyes remain on the road. 

“Would you stop that?” he laughs.

“What?” Octavia shrugs. “Excuse me for being happy that you two are truly sealing the deal. You almost fucked it up.”

“The break-up was mutual,” he grumbles. “Besides, that was three years ago. It’s been in the past for a long time.”

“I know - we’re all just excited.”

“Who’s  _ we _ ?”

“Mom...Abby and Jake.”

“Octavia!”

“What?” she yells back defensively. 

“I told you to keep it to yourself.”

“Mom doesn’t count.”

“And Jake and Abby?”

“Well...I just got excited. Sue me.”

“I was going to ask for their blessing tonight.”

Octavia rolls her eyes at that, and Bellamy knows that Clarke probably would too. “That’s so old-fashioned.”

Bellamy shrugs. “I know, but…” He shrugs again, struggling to put it into words. “They’ve been important in our lives, I just want to do everything right. I just want everything to be perfect.”

“It will be,” Octavia promises, her voice softer. “Besides, now I can tell you that Jake and Abby are over-the-moon about it, so you don’t have to worry about not getting their  _ blessing _ , or whatever.”

It’s not that Bellamy ever doubted that Clarke’s parents would approve of their marriage, but still. He feels nervous about all of it anyway. Octavia cranks up the radio for the rest of the short ride home, and Bellamy gazes out the open window at the ocean as they drive along it. 

_ Gold, when you see me _

_ Hi, if you need me _

_ Babe, that's the way it was _

_ That's the history _

_ Blue, how we used to _

_ Roar, like an open fire _

_ That's the way it was _

_ But that's history _

It’s the perfect time of day, when the sun is flush with the horizon and even the smallest particles of dust in the air seem to reflect gold. He knows it’s Clarke’s favorite time of day too, and he feels an ache in his chest as he takes in his surroundings. Bellamy never imagined he would miss it so much when he left, had never quite appreciated growing up in paradise. He knows he could be happy anywhere if Clarke is with him, but part of him wishes they could both come home. He never expected to return home after leaving, at least not for good. But maybe...maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Bellamy can smell the pork adobo drifting out of his mom’s open kitchen window as soon as Octavia pulls into the driveway. It’s his favorite dish, one he’s never been able to cook quite as perfectly as she does, despite it being his father who taught her the recipe so many years ago. They’ve only just walked through the kitchen door when his mother starts squealing, abandoning the stove to rush over and pull him in for a hug. 

“My boy,” she greets him adoringly.

“Hi, mom,” he laughs, hugging her back.

“Okay, I need to see it,” she immediately says once she pulls away.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, but without any malice, as he takes out the ring again. His mom gushes over it for a few minutes as Bellamy sets down his bags at the foot of the stairs. 

“You two are going to give me beautiful grandchildren,” his mother tells him, handing back the ring and turning her attention back to the stove.

“Jesus,” he laughs, sitting next to Octavia at the kitchen table. “One thing at a time, that’s...that’s not on the radar yet.”

\--∞--

Clarke brushes out her hair and applies deodorant in the Kona Airport’s bathroom mirror. Flying across the continental United States and halfway across the Pacific will drain anyone, but doing it while simultaneously fighting morning sickness required a strength Clarke didn’t think she had in her. Thankfully, it already being 4pm, she should be able to take a hot shower and be to sleep in no time. She wants to be rested for the wedding, but that’s on Saturday, five days from now. She should have plenty of time to recuperate.

As Clarke exits the bathroom and makes her way through the terminal, a renewed excitement floods her. Despite how awful she feels, despite still not having any kind of solid plan for telling Bellamy the big news, even after ruminating over it for the entirety of her flights, she’s just plain and simple itching to see him. Itching to be wrapped in his arms, to smell his familiar scent, to feel safe and at home. To feel that heat coil in her stomach when his lips are pressed against hers and his hands are exploring her body.

Clarke sees him before he sees her. He’s on the other side of the glass wall and doors, separated by security, wearing a t-shirt and pair of jeans. He’s wearing his glasses instead of contacts and his hair is unruly, which is unsurprising. Clarke is hit with such a surge of affection for the man that it nearly takes her breath away. She walks faster and hurries through the doors, feeling hornier than her poor body has been able to handle in the last month or so. It’s unsurprising really - he just does that to her.

Bellamy finally sees her, and when he does, he flashes a smile that could brighten the darkest of nights. They move towards each other at a brisk pace, not quite running but working together to close the distance between them. Clarke doesn’t give Bellamy a chance to say anything before she throws herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into the crook of it. 

Bellamy’s arms tighten around her center, gently rocking her, holding her against him. They stay like that for a minute, simply reveling in each others’ presence. Bellamy tries to pull away first, but Clarke shakes her head against his shoulder.

“Not yet,” she mumbles, clinging tighter to him. 

Bellamy doesn’t question it until she pulls away a minute later. When she does, she notices the concern etched on his face.

“You okay?” he asks, smiling softly as he tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Clarke has never seen Bellamy give anyone else that particular smile. 

“Yeah,” she sighs. 

_ Not really _ , she thinks. 

She holds his face in her hands, sweeping her thumbs across his freckled cheeks. He drops his forehead against hers. 

“I just really missed you,” she adds, finally closing the distance between their lips. Clarke wonders how the feel of something so familiar can still light a fire under her skin. Just before they begin embarrassingly making out in the middle of the airport, Bellamy pulls away with a laugh. 

“C’mon, let’s grab your bags,” he says, offering his hand. She takes it eagerly, interlacing their fingers as they make their way to the baggage claim.

“How was your flight?”

“Not bad,” she lies. To be fair, if it weren’t for the morning sickness, it would have been a fairly smooth travel experience. “I’m not looking forward to the jet lag that’s going to hit soon though.”

Bellamy chuckles. “Gotta push past it if we want to get solid surf hours in,” he tells her, picking up her suitcase off the conveyer belt. 

_ Surfing _ . Clarke has been so caught up in everything else, she hasn’t really thought about that. The thought of the waves causes a fresh wave of nausea to wash over her. She takes a deep breath, trying to push past it.

“You okay?” Bellamy asks. 

“Of course,” she smiles. “All good.”

\--∞--

There’s a lot of commotion when they walk into her parents’ house. Her parents, Aurora, and Octavia are all gathered around the kitchen island and chatting, presumably while Clarke’s dad multitasks cooking dinner. Between her parents, he’s always been the chef.

Both her parents rush to wrap her in a hug and Clarke bites down another wave of nausea when they squeeze her tightly. Aurora and Octavia both give her a hug too, once her parents release her. When they let her go, Clarke notices her mother pouring two glasses of wine to match everyone else’s - well everyone except Octavia, who is sipping on an IPA. 

Like Bellamy, her parents don’t know she’s pregnant. In fact,  _ nobody _ knows. Well, nobody but Raven, but that’s only because she lives in New York with her. It was too hard to hide, and so she didn’t  _ tell  _ Raven so much as Raven figured it out and Clarke didn’t have the energy to vehemently deny it. It felt wrong to tell anyone before Bellamy, but she also couldn’t imagine telling him over Facetime. 

“Oh, I’m good, Mom,” Clarke hurriedly says.

“You don’t want a glass?” her mom questions, bottle still in hand.

“I just - I’m starting to get a headache, from all the traveling I think. I’ll just stick with water for tonight.”

“Okay,” her mother accepts, but she gives Clarke a strange look before handing Bellamy his glass.

\--∞--

Luckily, everyone is understanding of the fact that Clarke is exhausted, and Aurora and Octavia don’t linger too long after dinner. Clarke is lucky that her parents chose to make a simple pasta dish for dinner instead of something with fish or anything else that might send Clarke running for a bathroom. Bellamy enters her room while she’s unpacking, having had to grab his bags from his mom’s house. 

“You could have just stayed here last night,” Clarke reminds him. They always stay in Clarke’s room because of her ensuite bathroom. 

“I know,” Bellamy says, setting them down. “My mom was happy to have me home for a night though.”

Clarke doesn’t have a chance to respond before she feels Bellamy behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. Clarke hums contentedly, running her hands over his forearms. For the first time since she saw him at the airport, desire replaces her exhaustion. One of her hands moves to his curls as he begins kissing up her neck. 

“Love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you too,” she murmurs back. “But I’m really disgusting, and need a shower in the worst way.”

Bellamy chuckles, the rumble in his chest vibrating against Clarke’s back. “Okay, I’ll hop in with you,” he tells her, pulling away. 

As he locks her bedroom door, Clarke turns on the shower and strips off her clothing. She catches herself in the mirror and her gaze lingers as she thinks about how differently her body will look in just a month or so. Bellamy appears behind her and begins to untie her hair, untangling her braid without a word. She catches his gaze in the mirror as he runs his fingers through his hair, her naked body a contrast to his fully clothed one. Her stomach flips wildly as he presses a kiss to her cheek before brushing his lips over her ear.

“Guess you really do need a shower, huh,” he whispers.

A giggle erupts from Clarke as she turns around to swat at him. Bellamy laughs, attempting to dodge her, but clearly satisfied with his stupid joke.

“You’re the worst,” she teases, biting down a smile as she lifts his t-shirt over his head. 

“Nah, you love me.”

“Against my better judgement,” she quips.

Clarke leaves him to strip off the rest of his clothing and climbs into the shower. She takes a deep breath, letting the hot water soothe her as it soaks her hair. Bellamy gets in a second later, reaching for her shampoo. They move in sync as they wash each other, hands lingering and grazing against wet skin, but never moving beyond that. It’s pretty much all the foreplay Clarke can handle. By the time she shuts off the shower and towels off, she feels like she might burst if Bellamy isn’t inside her soon.

Clarke isn’t sure who initiates it, but they’ve hardly dried themselves before they start making out like teenagers in her bathroom. Bellamy gasps into her mouth as Clarke begins to stroke him, and responds by lifting her into his arms before setting her down on the bed a second later. He climbs over, his hands everywhere as he kisses down her neck like she loves.

“You gotta stay quiet, baby,” he says, lips on her throat. She can feel the curve of his smile against her skin.

“I know, I know. Please.”

“God, can’t wait to taste you,” he murmurs, kissing his way down her body. Clarke’s hands thread through his curls, holding him close. 

As he takes one peaked nipple in his mouth, his other hand massages her other breast. Bellamy probably knows her body better than she does after all these years, but she’s also never felt so sensitive. Knowing her body so well is probably how he can tell that the gasp her draws from her isn’t necessarily a good one.

“You okay?” he asks, looking up at her and moving to stroke her side instead.

“Yeah, just - just sensitive. I don’t know.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything to that, but he responds perfectly with his body. His touch becomes more gentle, as do his lips, as he works his way down her body. Clarke closes her eyes, drinking in the simple pleasure, wondering how he always feels so perfect. His hands stroke up and down her thighs once he parts her legs further apart, his tongue sweeping up her center, nearly in an exploratory way despite the fact that her body is far from foreign to him. Like his hands and lips, his tongue is more gentle than usual and is exactly what she needs right now. She’s so keyed up that when he moans against her, the vibration causes her to release her own soft moan. He builds her up at what would usually be a leisurely pace, but has her toes curling quickly tonight. When he dives his tongue as deep into her as he can and rolls slow circles over her clit with his thumb, she has to muffle a groan as a soft orgasm floods through her, her entire body tingling. Bellamy is above her a second later, kissing her, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue as she pulls him impossible closer. 

“Why are you so sensitive?” he asks, nosing her jaw as his hands explore her waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Your period soon?”

Clarke blushes, but it has nothing to do with the question itself. It’s just that it’s an abrupt reminder that she won’t be having one of those for a long time and she’s yet to share the reason why.

“Yeah,” she lies, breathless when she speaks.

Bellamy kisses her again, slowly, his hand threading through her damp, tangled hair. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers, brown eyes bearing down on her. Thick emotion catches in her throat, which she has to believe is due to the hormones. Long distance or not, she isn’t usually such a mess just from reunion sex with her boyfriend. Bellamy is incredible, but Clarke has never cried during sex, and she’d like to keep it that way.

“How do you want me?” he asks quietly.

“Just like this,” she answers. “But slow - I just want to feel you.”

Bellamy exhales, warm breath fanning across her face before he presses a kiss to her temple. Although it’s hardly a kiss, and more him simply grazing his lips against her skin as he lines himself up at her entrance. Her heart races in anticipation, despite them doing this more times than Clarke could possibly count.

True to her request, he pushes in slowly, gently, giving her time to adjust as he does. His face drops to her shoulder and her hands move to his curls again, holding him close to her until he’s completely sheathed in her. 

“How do you always feel so incredible,” he mutters, drawing a laugh from Clarke. He lifts his face to look at her, an amused smile painting his lips. 

“I love you, baby,” he tells her, not giving her a chance to respond before leaning in to kiss her again.

Their kisses match the languid pace he sets as he begins to thrust into her, slowly and deeply.

“Yes,” she sighs, her lips brushing his when she speaks. “That’s so good, so good.”

Her hands move to explore the expanse of his freckled back, feeling his muscles move under the pads of her fingers as he thrusts into her. Time slows or maybe even stops. All she can focus on is how Bellamy feels in, and on, every part of her body. Her love for him feels like an ache in her chest as he slides in and out of her, stoking a fire in her that’s burning hotter and hotter, spreading uncontrollably to every part of her body. Remembering that this beautiful demonstration of what they mean to each other is why she’s carrying his child undoes her even quicker. She clenches around him, drawing a groan from him, the sound landing on her lips.

“Fuck, that’s so good, babe. So good,” he pants against her mouth, as his pace quickens. 

Clarke hums in agreement, the flames quickly unfurling inside her. She keens, right on the edge, fingers pressing into him harder. 

“Bell,” she whines, unsure she’s even asking for.

Bellamy seems to know though, like he always does. He snakes a hand between, trailing down her body until it lands on her clit. He’s still gentle when he rubs circles over it, not rubbing hard like he might usually, but it’s all she needs to unravel tonight.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she pants in breathless whispers. 

Bellamy keeps rocking into her, just long enough to keep fucking her through her orgasm. He mouths at her shoulder when he comes, body tensing and hips stuttering as he spills into her. Clarke closes her eyes in bliss, stroking up and down his back soothingly as he catches his breath. Time starts up again, but slowly, like it’s waking from a long slumber.

They don’t say anything. They don’t have to - they said everything with their bodies.

_ I missed you. _

_ I love you, more than anything. _

_ You’re it. It’s always been you. _

She’s smiling when Bellamy finally pulls out of her, eyes still closed. He kisses her forehead before she hears him rummaging through a dresser drawer. Probably for clean boxers - that’s all he ever wears to bed. 

“Clarke.” 

She can hear the amused smile in his voice without having to open her eyes, and hums in response.

“You’ve got to at least get under the covers.”

“And brush my teeth,” she mumbles. “And pee.”

Bellamy chuckles. 

“Exactly,” he agrees, lifting her up. She finally forces her eyes open, taking in the adoring look in his own. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he laughs, giving her a quick kiss. 

“Up you go,” he adds, pulling her off the bed and gently swatting her ass as she walks past him and into the bathroom.

Clarke moves slowly as she brushes her teeth and pees before changing into one of Bellamy’s t-shirts and a clean pair of underwear. Bellamy is already in bed, and he pulls her close as soon as she’s under the covers. 

_ Tomorrow _ , she thinks, right before her consciousness slips away.  _ I’ll tell him tomorrow. _

\--∞--

Clarke expects to wake up alone. Actually, for once, Clarke is counting on waking up alone, because true to its name, her morning sickness is always the worst when she first wakes up. She figured that per usual, Bellamy would be on his morning run by the time she woke up. Instead, his warm hand trailing up her thigh and under her shirt is what wakes her. It’s soothing, but it doesn’t curb the nausea.

“Hi,” she murmurs, finally blinking her eyes open. Bellamy is staring down at her, a soft smile on his face, but his eyes look as sleepy as hers feel.

“Morning,” he answers, laying back down and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“Thought you’d be on a run already,” she says, voice still quiet, as if not to startle the morning. “What time is it?”

“A little after ten,” he answers. “Besides, I don’t need a run when we’re going to be surfing all day.”

“Oh.”

Bellamy lifts his head to look at her, probably hearing her strange tone. Maybe she should just tell him now - it’s not like she has some  _ plan  _ or anything. But it just...it doesn’t feel like the moment. She’s half asleep and...and okay, maybe she’s putting it off a little at this point. Maybe she’s more nervous to tell him than she expected. 

“Oh?”

“I’m just still pretty tired,” Clarke lies. “But let’s grab coffee, and then we can decide,” she adds, immediately climbing out of bed and heading to the bathroom. She takes a few deep breaths once she closes the door, feeling relieved that although she still feels a little nauseous, she doesn’t quite feel like throwing up. In fact, her morning sickness  _ has _ been getting a little better in the last week, air travel aside. A month ago, she was spending hours on the bathroom floor every morning. 

Bellamy is gone when Clarke leaves the bathroom, so she throws on a pair of shorts and walks into the kitchen. She finds him sitting on a stool at the island in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, his glasses now on. Her mother is standing, leaning forward onto the opposite side of the island, and both of them are sipping on what she assumes is coffee. She almost swears they were talking about something in hushed voices right before she walks in, but as soon as she does, her mom only asks Bellamy what they have planned for the day. She was probably imagining it - she’s hardly in a reliable headspace these days.

“Well, we were going to surf, but apparently this one is too tired,” Bellamy teases as Clarke reaches for a mug. Clarke sticks her tongue out at him.

“Maybe caffeine will change her mind,” Bellamy prompts. They all know she has an affinity towards starting everyday with copious amounts of coffee. 

“Actually, I’ve been drinking tea recently,” Clarke starts, not looking either of them in the eye as she rummages through a cabinet. “Do we have any - anything herbal?”

“Tea?” both her mother and Bellamy question in unison, clearly shocked.

“What?” Clarke asks, a little too defensively. “Do we have any or not?”

“Other pantry, hon,” her mom tells her, nodding to the one to her right. She feels her mother’s eyes on her as she opens it, can sense her curiosity. 

“Actually, I forgot Clarke and I are supposed to get our nails done in a couple hours anyway,” Abby tells him.

Clarke spins around. “We are?”

“Yes,” Abby says, giving her a pointed look when she turns away from Bellamy to look at her. “Did you forget?”

“Oh...must have,” Clarke answers, still not entirely sure what’s going on.

Things are more normal after that. They sip on their coffees and tea and her father comes home with a box of donuts. Both her parents took the week off of work because she’s home. Clarke nibbles on a donut and manages to finish it, but it’s a far cry from the way she usually inhales three of them. Nobody says anything about it, if they noticed at all, but she feels her mother’s curious eyes on her again. 

Clarke apologizes about the surfing plans when they finish eating, but Bellamy assures her that he doesn’t mind, telling her that he’ll go for a run and that he promised Miller he’d catch up with him anyway.

“But,” he emphasizes. “I’m taking you to dinner tonight, so we need to be ready at 6pm.”

“ _ Taking  _ me to dinner?” Clarke asks, a giggle escaping. “Where are we going? Farmers?”

Bellamy laughs, wrapping his arms around her. “For once, don’t be difficult.”

“I’m never difficult.”

Bellamy hums in mock agreement before giving her a kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. 

“Sure.”

\--∞--

Once Bellamy leaves for his run, Clarke throws on a pair of jean shorts and a cut off tank top to go get her nails done with her mom, figuring she’ll shower right before dinner. She tousles some dry shampoo in her hair, puts on fresh deodorant, and slides on her flip flops before finding her mother waiting in the kitchen.

“Ready?” Clarke asks, but her mother only raises her brow at her.

“What?” she questions, feeling defensive again.

“Men are generally too stupid to see the signs, but I’m a woman - and also a doctor.”

Clarke only stares at her, unsure of what to say.

“You’re pregnant!”

“Mom!” Clarke hushes her. 

“Bellamy already left,” her mom waves her off, smiling ridiculously. “It’s true then?”

“Yes,” Clarke admits. 

Her mother squeals, running over to Clarke and squeezing her tightly. “You’re - you’re happy, right?” her mother asks when she pulls away, as if it’s an afterthought.

Clarke releases a breathy laugh. “Of course I am - it’s Bellamy. But it’s...it’s a surprise. I’m not sure Bellamy will be happy.”

Her mother shakes her head. “Of course he will be.”

Clarke sighs. “I know everything will be fine, that he’ll - I know he isn’t going anywhere, but whether he’ll truly be  _ happy _ , rather than just feeling obligated? I don’t know…”

Her mother shakes her head again. “He’ll be happy. When are you telling him?”

“I guess tonight at dinner would be a good time. I can’t keep it from him any longer - and thanks for the save from surfing, by the way. I’d end up vomiting on the beach at this rate.”

“Tonight at dinner?” she asks, seemingly alarmed. She ignores the last part of Clarke’s response.

“Yeah,” Clarke says slowly. “Is something wrong with that?”

“No, no,” she quickly answers, as if snapping out of her strange thoughts. “Not at all.”

\--∞--

“Where are we going?” Clarke asks, climbing into the passenger side of Octavia’s jeep convertible that they’re borrowing for the night. The sun is low in the sky, setting in less than an hour, and everything around them looks tinted with gold. It’s her favorite time of day.

“It’s a secret,” he teases, turning the car on.

Clarke huffs. She’s generally not keen on surprises, but she trusts that Bellamy knows her enough to plan one that she’ll like. There aren’t many expensive restaurants near them and the ones that do exist would be terrible places for Clarke to announce she’s pregnant, but she doubts that’s where they’re going. They aren’t the type of places either of them enjoy, and neither are dressed for them anyway. Bellamy is wearing dark jeans and a button up, but those kinds of places would require slacks. She’s wearing a short-sleeve maxi sundress that reveals a generous amount of her cleavage, and he didn’t comment on it or hint at any kind of dress code. Clarke turns up the radio as Bellamy begins driving, trying not to over-analyze the route he’s taking.

_ I saw you smile _

_ I knew you had spirit _

_ Oh won't you let your colors run _

_ And isn't it odd, the way we try to tell ourselves we got limits _

_ You're beautiful, but you just don't see it sometimes _

_ And I don't know why _

_ Oh, you're the shape of my days _

_ Oh, you're my holy place _

_ And I know _

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When you're alone with me _

Eventually, Clarke becomes aware that Bellamy is driving to somewhere she isn’t at all familiar with, rounding towards the other side of the island. 

“Should I be scared? Are you going to murder me and dump my body in the ocean?”

Bellamy laughs, but says nothing. His smile doesn’t fade as he takes Clarke’s hand and interlaces their fingers, and she can’t help but mirror his smile as she looks out the window again. The sky is fading from gold to a beautiful blend of warm pastels. After about thirty minutes of driving, Bellamy pulls off the main road onto a gravel one. Clarke doesn’t say anything, only listens to the radio as the nervous anticipation inside her grows - both about telling Bellamy the big news and also for whatever he has planned. 

Finally, they drive upon a small beach. Although, it’s really hardly a beach and it’s clear that it’s far from a tourist destination, hidden here from prying eyes. Clarke peers forward, curiosity propelling her out of the jeep as soon as Bellamy brings it to a stop. The centerpiece of the area is a dock that stretches out onto the water. While Clarke is certain that Bellamy didn’t build this dock for tonight, she guesses that he’s responsible for everything else. There are strings of bulb lights criss-crossed above the dock, attached to the tall poles that line the sides of it. At the end of the dock, Clarke can make out a small table, cushions on either side of it, and what she’s assuming is dinner in the containers. 

“Bellamy?” Clarke questions, unable to hide her toothy smile. When she turns her head, she finds that he’s already right behind her, chest nearly touching her back. “What is this?” she asks more quietly.

“Dinner,” Bellamy answers cheekily, offering his hand.

“Cute,” Clarke quips, taking it and letting him lead her onto the dock.

“No, um,” Bellamy starts, voice more serious. “My dad used to bring me out here to fish when I was little - always said it was Hawaii’s best-kept secret.”

“You never mentioned it,” Clarke murmurs.

“I know. I’ve never brought anyone here, not even Octavia, until now.”

Clarke feels emotion swell in her throat, hand in his as they reach the end of the dock. They stare out in silence for a moment, watching as the horizon accepts the sun like a long lost lover - gentle, but impatient. 

“Clarke,” Bellamy starts. Clarke turns to face him, and he swallows thickly. Her heart begins beating wildly, although she isn’t sure why. “You know I’m not great at speeches - at least, not when I’m trying to put into words what you mean to me. Because there never seems to be the right words - no string of words ever seems to be enough. But - Clarke, you’re it for me. You’re my best friend, and the love of my life, and my partner in every sense of the word - it’s as simple as that. If the last few years apart have taught me anything, it’s that I don’t care what comes next for us, as long as we’re together.”

Clarke is vaguely aware of a single tear that slips from the corner of her eye and trails down her cheek. She isn’t paying attention to that though, because Bellamy pulls a ring box out of his pocket. For a moment, all she feels is bliss. But then Bellamy looks up at her, probably trying to read her reaction, and it dawns on her, why this is happening. He knows. He  _ knows _ . 

“Oh my God, you know,” she starts.

Confusion taints Bellamy’s features and he tenses at her words. It doesn’t deter her train of thought.

“My Mom told you. I can’t believe she would do that,” Clarke starts, shaking her head, already feeling frustration bubbling inside her.

“Clarke,  _ what  _ are you talking about?” 

“Bellamy, I love you,” Clarke continues. “But you - you don’t have to propose just because of the baby. It’s so sweet, but-”

“You’re  _ pregnant _ ?” Bellamy asks. It comes out like a gasp, and he chokes on the word  _ pregnant _ . That’s when Clarke’s stomach drops, because she knows the question and confusion are genuine. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck.  _

“I-,” she starts, feeling more stupid by the second. “That’s not why you’re proposing?”

“Clarke, you’re pregnant?” he asks again, because apparently he needs a clearer answer.

Clarke takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I- I was going to tell you tonight. Well, I guess I did tell you tonight, but that wasn’t how I wanted-”

Clarke is cut off by Bellamy’s lips on hers, his hands cradling her face, fingers threading through her waves. When he pulls away a moment later, his eyes are glistening. Clarke doesn’t realize hers are too until she sniffles.

“Are you happy?” Clarke asks. Her voice sounds pathetic, like that of an unsure child. 

“Clarke, how could I not be? I can’t-” Bellamy cuts himself off, shaking his heads, searching for words. “Ecstatic doesn’t cover it. You’re pregnant, we’re having a  _ baby _ .” 

Clarke isn’t sure if it’s a question or not, but she begins nodding rapidly. His eyes are still glistening, but his smile is wide and contagious. It’s messy when he kisses her again, mostly teeth because neither of them can stop smiling. Clarke doesn’t care. Maybe it’s not technically kissing, but whatever it is, it’s hers and Bellamy’s.

“Clarke,” he starts, breathless as he pulls away, hand steady on her waist. “You kind of stole my thunder tonight.”

A surprised laugh escapes Clarke.

“You were really going to propose? Even without knowing about the baby?”

“Of course I was - I meant what I said, Clarke. You’re it.”

“Okay, do it again, do it again,” Clarke answers excitedly, quickly wiping another tear from her cheek. 

“Clarke,” he starts, his tone more teasing as he pulls the ring box from his pocket for a second time. It makes her smile wider, although she didn’t think that was possible. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes-” 

Clarke cuts herself off with her own kisses, murmuring a few more  _ yes’s  _ in between peppered kisses until they’re both laughing. It’s Bellamy who pulls away, only so that he can open the ring box. The sun is almost gone, but with the lights above them, Clarke can see it clearly enough. She gasps as he slides it on, noting the two small sapphires that hug the diamond. 

“Like the ocean,” she murmurs, staring at it. Clarke looks up at Bellamy when he doesn’t answer, only to find him already staring intently at her. 

“Like the ocean,” he agrees. The crooked smile he gives her, paired with the soft look in his eyes that has only ever belonged to her...they are everything.

\--∞--

Bellamy holds Clarke in his arms for a few minutes, her back to his chest as they watch the ocean finally drag the sun into its depths. Even as his heart is racing with excitement, that she said yes, that they’re having a  _ baby _ , there is still a peace in this moment that could only ever exist with Clarke.

“You hungry?” he murmurs into her ear, breaking their silence.

Clarke only nods, probably feeling just as overwhelmed. Bellamy leads them over to the small table he has set up, holding takeout containers from their favorite italian restaurant, a bucket with champagne in it, and a few candles. 

“Should have brought sparkling grape juice instead,” he laughs, shooting Clarke a teasing smile as she sits on the floor pillow across the table from him. He unpacks their food, kept warm in insulated bags.

“I think stuffing myself with pasta will be just fine,” she laughs. 

Not long after they’ve started eating, Bellamy notices how Clarke’s gaze keeps flickering back to him, almost indecisively. 

“What’s the matter?”

“You’re too far away,” she decides, standing before he can answer her. 

She sits in his lap a second later, stealing his fork as she takes a bite of his dish. It’s so  _ Clarke _ , the same girl who use to insist they cuddle during sleepovers, long before they were anything but best friends. Bellamy wraps his arms around her and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

“You’re really sure? That you’re happy?” Clarke questions, setting the fork down and shifting to look at him.

Bellamy furrows his brow at the question, trying to think of anything he might have done to make her think he isn’t.

“How could I not be?” he asks, because that’s the simple truth of it. 

Even if they were pregnant under the worst circumstances, he can’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t be happy, even if he wasn’t supposed to be. That would only be the case if Clarke was upset about it, but she seems as happy as he feels.

“Well - it wasn’t exactly planned,” she points out. “Pretty sure this,” she adds, huffing a laugh as she holds up her newly adorned ring finger, “and a few other steps were supposed to happen first. We don’t even know where we’re going to be living in 2 months.”

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” he assures her, before chuckling. “Besides, when have we ever done things in the right order?”

“Never,” Clarke laughs.

“And things turned out pretty great.”

“Yeah,” Clarke agrees, voice quiet as she drops her forehead against his. “They did.”

Bellamy holds her tighter as he he lifts his face to kiss her, the food forgotten. From the way she kisses him back, her tongue immediately teasing his mouth open, he thinks that Clarke probably doesn’t care either. She releases a breathy moan when his tongue finds hers, his hands now wandering across any part of her body he can reach. Clarke shifts so that she’s straddling him, the skirt of her dress pooled over his lap. With Clarke grinding against him, his cock is straining against his jeans in no time. Not to mention the news that Clarke is carrying their child making him feel like his insides are catching fire.

“Bell,” she mutters, lips brushing his as she speaks. “Our family and friends aren’t about to pop out of the trees, right?”

God, she already sounds wrecked. Bellamy chuckles. 

“No, baby. Just you and me,” he assures her, his hand brushing up her inner thigh. Clarke moans when he begins stroking her over her underwear, face dropping to the crook of his neck. Just the feel of her breath fanning across his skin, the little mewls he draws from her when his thumb finds her clit, feels like enough to undo him. Just as he’s about to push her underwear aside and slide a finger into her, Clarke leans back in his lap, hands flying to his belt buckle. 

“You going to fuck me here?” Bellamy asks. He means it to be teasing, but his voice is too rough and it comes out as a gasp as she unzips his jeans and pulls him out.

Clarke doesn’t respond, only leans down to give him a bruising kiss as she begins to stroke him. One of his hands moves from her hips to her hair, holding her tightly.

“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last,” he groans into her mouth.

Clarke takes the cue. Neither sheds any more clothing, Clarke simply pushing her underwear aside as she guides him into her. Bellamy’s hands move to her waist, holding her tightly but letting her set the pace as she slowly takes all of him.

“Fuck,” Clarke moans when he bottoms out. “Fuck.”

“You take me so well,” he murmurs, moving to kiss her chest, her neck, her shoulder. 

Clarke rolls her hips, her hands on his shoulders. He forces himself to tear his lips from her soft skin so that he can watch her face as she loses herself in him, as she falls apart. She quickens her rhythm, her arms looping around his neck, pulling him close as she fucks him. Bellamy can sense when she starts to grow tired, and one hand moves to her thigh, gripping her tightly as he begins to thrust into her. 

“Yes, yes,” she pants, her face dropping to his neck. “Right there.”

“I got you,” he groans. “You’re so close.”

Clarke tightens around him, whining into his ear as he pushes her over the edge. Bellamy groans, thrusts into her once more before he’s falling part, panting as he comes down. Clarke doesn’t move, her arms still looped around him and holding him close. One of her hands threads through his hair as one of his rubs her back in a soothing motion. Bellamy isn’t sure how much time passes before she pulls off of him, only moving far enough to allow him to tuck himself back into his pants. Clarke kisses him lazily for a few minutes, neither saying anything.

“Food is probably cold now,” he murmurs. Clarke huffs. 

“I think I’ll manage,” she laughs, eating a forkful of his pasta, as if to prove her point. “I’ve worked up a bigger appetite.”

Bellamy keeps his arms wrapped around her center, opening his mouth when she feeds him the next bite of pasta.

“Shit,” he realizes, after swallowing.

Clarke looks at him, expression alarmed. “What?”

“We’re having a Valentine’s Day kid - that’s fucking embarrassing.”

Clarke chokes on her laughter. “We’ll lie on the birth certificate.”

“Deal,” he smiles, pressing his lips against her shoulder as she eats the next bite.

He was right. Everything was perfect.

\--∞--

Clarke laughs at Jasper’s story about Monty’s bachelor party from night two nights ago. She heard most of the details from Bellamy already, but Jasper has always been a colorful narrator and Clarke doesn’t mind hearing it again. Besides, she had her own stories from Harper’s to share in turn.

True to Monty and Harper, their wedding was a casual beach event. Clarke, a bridesmaid, is dressed in a warm pink pastel dress that’s more akin to a maxi sundress than a formal gown. She still has the flower crown in her hair from the ceremony a few hours ago, its pink petals matching her dress well. Maya soon catches Jasper’s attention, and so Clarke walks over to where Bellamy is sitting at one of the chairs positioned around the beach bonfire. The lanterns they released are still floating above them in the sky, warm sparks against the darkness. Hope. Clarke has a lot of hope these days. 

“Hi,” she sighs, falling into Bellamy’s lap.

“Tired?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Clarke nods, letting her head drop against his shoulder. It’s going to feel more devastating than usual saying goodbye to him again in two days, even if they only have to wait six more weeks until they see each other at Clarke’s graduation in New York. Thankfully, Bellamy’s is a week later, so they can make it to both.

“Bell?”

He hums in response, playing with her hand, thumb stroking her new ring.

“What do you think about moving home?”

That gets his attention. His eyes snap back to hers. 

“I just think with the baby...” she continues. “I don’t know - regardless of the baby, I kind of miss it. Do you?”

“Yeah, actually. I miss it a lot.”

“I feel like we can find  _ something _ , you know? Even if it’s not our dream jobs right away.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’d rather raise our baby here with our families and have a job that isn’t my dream job than do this elsewhere.”

“Me too,” she sighs, closing her eyes. 

She feels Bellamy’s hand in hers again, and somehow, knows that everything will work out. How could it not, with him by her side?

\--∞--

**4 Years Later**

Clarke squints, the sun incredibly bright even with her sunglasses on. She laughs from where she’s laying on her towel, eyes on Bellamy and their daughter in the shallow area of the ocean in front of them. She’d been riding tandem with them for a while, but now she’s in a life jacket with her own small board, her father holding her steady. Clarke is usually with them, but her morning sickness this time around is as terrible as it was the first time. 

It had taken them some time to end up where they wanted when they moved back - they didn’t exactly have easily transferable career paths. But now, Bellamy is teaching at the University of Hawaii at Hilo and Clarke is managing an art gallery. When an artist from Los Angeles opened it three years ago, Clarke had practically begged for a job as her assistant, unwilling to take no for an answer. She worked her ass off to end up where she is now. The owner is hardly around, and Clarke essentially runs the gallery herself. 

Bellamy looks up at her, as if to see if she’s still watching them. When she receives a toothy smile from him, butterflies erupt in her stomach, no calmer than they were when she walked into his bedroom a decade ago. When everything changed and she opened her eyes to the gift she’d already been holding for so long. She admits that she certainly got more than she bargained for with that graduation pact, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> I matched this prompt submitter's donation by donating to [My Block, My Hood, My City](https://www.formyblock.org/mission).


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